Bad Bridesmaid
Description:
Bad Bridesmaid:
an underachieving, inadequate, sinful, vulgar, naughty or disobedient bridal attendant. Usually characterized by eye- rolling, drunkenness, lack of pantyhose and an overdrawn bank account.Siri Agrell didn’t mean to become a bad bridesmaid. It just kind of happened when this National Post columnist innocently asked via a newspaper pieceif it was really necessary for the bride’s best and most loyal friends to endure 12 months of themed showers, endless fittings and the inevitable “taffeta terror” of coming face to face with the chosen dress. Agrell got her answer when she was promptly fired as a bridesmaid. But her friend’s loss is a win for the millions of women-in-waiting who, despite the fact that they love their brides, can’t quite believe what they’re being asked to swallow along with their champagne.
Part memoir (including both Agrell’s story and countless other confessions of bridesmaids-gone-bad) and part cultural analysis, Bad Bridesmaid is wholly and smartly funny, a stilettoheel print on an ivory silk train. Bad Bridesmaid devilishly dissects the hilarious, expensive and unbelievable experiences of leading a treasured friend down the aisle, and asks why it all has to be so damn difficult. From the history of bridesmaidswho in ancient times were used as decoysto their contemporary role of strapless dresswearing servitudeAgrell covers it all. Why are we powerless against the shower’s reign? Why do we not demand more than a one-night stand with our bridesmaid dress? Does anyone really want to watch a male stripper?
For my friend’s shower, I was given a piece of paper with the bride’s measurements on it and found myself spending an afternoon contemplating how she would look
in flagrante delicto in a variety of expensive lacy accoutrements. On the day of, she unwrapped enough underwear to pull off a solo Victoria’s Secret lingerie show, accompanied by the earnest nods of her friends and co-workers, who confirmed to one another knowingly, “He’s really going to like that one.” The ridiculousness of outfitting a friend like a high-class hooker cannot be acknowledged by bridesmaids, who must ignore the fact that the bride wears flannel jammies and shouldn’t really be able to keep a straight face wearing white down the aisle, let alone in the sack. To this day, I can’t help imagining my friend walking seductively into her marital bedroom wearing nothing but five inches of black silk and whispering softly in her husband’s ear, “This one’s from your mom.” from Bad Bridesmaid